Harry woke up sweating.
Under the duvet, Draco was clinging to him, producing an ungodly amount of heat, a stark contrast to his usual freezing temperatures making Harry a little bit concerned.
"My love," He shakes his husband gently and grows slightly more concerned when he doesn't acknowledge him, "Draco are you alright?"
Draco only whines in response burying his face into Harry's chest. Harry breathes a sigh of relief, carding his fingers through Draco's hair.
Harry attempts to press the back of his hand to Draco's forehead only to have him groan in protest, "I need to check your temperature love,"
"Everything hurts," Draco whined.
Harry frowned rubbing soothing circles onto Draco's back as he fumbled for the thermometer on his nightstand with his hand.
"I'm going to need you to open your mouth love."
Draco weakly opened his mouth and Harry slid the thermometer inside. He would have used his wand but he had no desire to jostle his husband to retrieve it from the wand holster he hadn't detached from his jeans the night before.
He waits for the thermometer to beep before removing it and reading the temperature.
"Merlin, love, you're burning up," Draco only grumbles and burrows deeper into his chest, "Lets get you into the bath."
As Harry starts to shift Draco groans, "Don't wanna move,"
"I know love, but a warm bath'll feel nice, won't it?"
"You're warm and nice," Draco protests weakly.
Harry chuckles helping Draco to his feet and allowing him to use him for support, "Yes, but if you're using me like a space heater then I can't make you soup."
Draco looks up, "Soup? Well, carry on then."
Harry smiles helping Draco into the bath carefully and leaving it to fill while he rustled through the bathroom cabinets, "What sent are you feeling, love"
"Lavender," Draco says staring at the faucet, "'M cold."
"I'm sure just soak in the bath, for a bit and I'll make some soup, alright?"
Draco hums in acknowledgment, shivering slightly.
Harry heads to the kitchen and gets to work making potage parmentier. He had learned a while back when Draco's mum had come over to visit and was appalled by the list of soups he knew how to make. The list being chicken noodle and curry, if you can count that as a soup.
He works as quickly as possible and fills a bowl with the steaming soup.
When he gets back to the bathroom Draco's teeth are chattering and Harry sets the bowl of soup on the counter and helps Draco wrap himself in a fluffy bath towel. Casting a quick stasis charm on the soup he helps Draco get dressed. As per usual Draco steals Harry's sweatpants and jumper. He consistently claims he's too dignified to buy one but still steals Harry's every time.
Harry sets him up in bed, covered in blankets and layered with warming charms.
"I made," Harry looks up trying to remember how to pronounce it, "Potage par-menteir,"
Draco laughs at him making him aware he likely mispronounced it at least a little, "Potage pah-mentair, not par."
"I did better that time," Harry defends, settling himself behind Draco, allowing his head to rest on Harry's chest as he ate.
"Hm, whilst your pronunciation is abhorrent, your soup is nice so I'll let it pass,"
Harry mimics wiping sweat from his brow, "Oh, thank Merlin."
"No just me," Draco says sleepily.
Harry smiles down at his husband as he finishes his soup. Harry vanishes the dish to the kitchen and slumped down so Draco could lay comfortably, after that it didn't take long for Draco to fall asleep.